


Not Safe From Work

by Who_lives_in_a_pineapple



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Hatari (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Attempt at Humor, Drinking & Talking, Dystopia, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_lives_in_a_pineapple/pseuds/Who_lives_in_a_pineapple
Summary: A tiny little Klámstrákur-based au of my own.Enjoy and leave feedback, if you dare.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Not Safe From Work

**Author's Note:**

> Lights of urban utopia tend to hide the shadows.

Waves of muffled, deafening music made their way out of countless clubs across a single tiny street. This region was considered almost elite, with every building being tidy and crisp, people polite and always smiling, local authority respectful and hard working. At least it seemed like it. One of the sins this city possessed is this teeny tiny street. It tries it's best to look like a regular place, with a couple of beauty and massage salons, entertainment complexes, bars, saunas, pools, yadda yadda. But under the cover of paradise for beauty and health industry was hiding horrid business world, which only grew further on inexhaustible pain of many adults and even children. They were secret "clubs".

There was a well-built man sitting on pavement next to one of the "clubs", dressed in fancy, bedazzled and lewd deep-blue costume with a bunch of feathers sticking here and there. His "shift" was over a long time ago already, but he was waiting for his friend, sipping a cold drink from a fancy glass, gazing upon distant skyscrapers with dazzling, colorful billboards on them, promoting whatever there was. Crescent was shining rather softly this night, probably because of severe light pollution. The man's face felt icky and itchy because of smeared make-up and sweat, with other unpleasant liquids mixing together in one nasty mix. He tried wiping it off with his own glittery clothes, but it wasn't much help.  
In any case, his friend was already exiting his "club", which was disguised as a theatre. Klemens, he was. Running his hands through his own crimson hair, he started approaching his colleague, legs still shaky and tired. It was a little cold outside, but he wore only a coat, tight leather thong and his "lucky", neon-green collar, too exhausted to even re-dress properly.

– It has been two years already, - ebony-haired man turned his head and smiled to his friend. - but you continue waddling after each shift to this day.  
– Oh, shut up, Mr. Peacock.  
– Whatever you say, "Klámstrákur".  
– You know that this nickname irritates me, right?  
– Even if you'd like to choke the bastard who came up with it, I think he'll just find it kinky fun.  
– Ugh, but of course. Whatever…

Klemens sat beside the man, accepting the drink he offered. It was a bright orange cocktail with a metal straw and cute little umbrella.

– "Sex on the beach", really? Is your humor this poor? - redhead said, as he observed offered beverage.  
– But bad jokes like this are the reason you became my buddy in the first place, isn't it?  
– Okay, maybe I did fell for that. And, welp, this drink is better than my entire sex life anyways.  
– It would be much easier if we could beat our clients as much as they beat us, wouldn't it?  
– I would be content if I wasn't surrounded by men who want to shove all sorts of things up my ass at all. And by the way, one of the most powerful hits still belongs to you.  
– Oh come on, I was angry that day when we were supposed to perform together, I'm a former martial artist and… I slapped your ass how I slapped your ass, okay?  
– Wait, you are into martial arts? - Klemens leaned closer.  
– Yeah, my body was supposed to become a dangerous weapon, but it became an obnoxious sex doll. On the "work" my skills are pretty much useless. They pay for a free rape with no concequences whatsoever, so….  
– That's…. Pretty sad, not gonna lie.

Both men saddened a little bit, creating awkward silence for a couple of moments.

– …..Okay, I was just joking about the strength of your slap, I faced stuff much worse, it's nothing.  
– Well, that same performance was the first time met at all, so it had it's pros.  
– Hey! You've got to show me your skills one day!  
– What? - Andrean froze up.  
– You could make a terrific bodyguard, like, look at you! You really are strong.  
– I could, but only if it was paid as much as my current "job". I can make it to an elite prostitute.  
– Sounds really good. I wish I made as much as you.  
– Capitalism bringing you down on your knees?  
– Choking me as with all strength it has.

They clinked their glasses and took a sip.

– Thanks for the cocktail by the way, son of a bitch that is my pimp won't give me my salary.  
– What's the matter?  
– He keeps acting like an idiot and tells me that he'll hand me the money only if I'll apologize for that shitty joke I told him once.  
– Ooh, tell me! - Andrean started getting curious.  
– So, uh… what can be said about a guitarist and my pimp?  
– Uuh....I know! He fingered a minor?  
– Yes! That's what I told him!

Uncontrollable laughter came from both men. They had a hard time recovering their breath.

– But in all seriousness, that's fucked up. - Klemens stressed.  
– Fucked up indeed. But the joke was worth it.

They became serious in no time.

– It seems like nowadays humour became a protective reaction against sadness, didn't it?  
– Yeah, but at least we have protection somewhere, right?

After a second of silence, redhead began to chuckle.

– I blame you for making my sense of humour going to shit tier.  
– It's not that bad!  
– One time I was almost fired for saying "Wow, your bulge is like a bag of chips, it's half empty when I open it."  
– Wasn't it rather like a toy? Stuffed with cotton to the brim?

Once again, they began to choke, laughing.

– I still blame you!!! - Klemens cried, trying to recover his breath.  
– Sorry not sorry!

Two friends started looking upon the night sky, in complete piece from their everyday troubles. At least, for this brief moment.

– Anyway, how was your day, Andrean?  
– Nothing special. Dancing mostly. You?  
– The "gimp" came to pay me a visit again.  
– It's that dude with a spiky mask?  
– Yeah…. - Klemens could still feel warm traces on his chest and shiver because of them. - … He seems to be my constant client now. It seriously becomes creepy. I haven't heard a single sound from him, not even talking about words! But he doesn't do anything too sexual to me, and that's the strangest part. Not even any BDSM practices. It almost feels like he just enjoys observing me. But why would he pay so much money for "privacy" if he could just watch me dance among all other people in the "theatre"?  
– What if he is an extreme sociophobe? Or filthy rich? Or both?  
– It doesn't matter, really. If he becomes my source of somewhat stable income, I'm in.  
– You do care for the money only, right? - Andrean sighed, putting his chin on the hand to hold it.  
– I'll do anything as long as it sells.  
– And this, - the ebony-haired man pointed at Klemens, - this is why you have troubles with health now.  
– I'm still visiting my doctor regularly, so it should be fine. - "Klámstrákur" moved other man's hand away from himself.  
– I don't exactly trust your new doctor. He looks very fucking similar to our countries current dictator and throws around pretty loud speeches about how miserable you are. Also, previous nurses were better.  
– A perfect duet of sorts.  
– He also feels so similar to you, but I can't exactly tell why? Like, what if you are… brothers….. - Andrean bent back slightly to muster a dramatic pose, putting his right palm on his own face. - ……. Separated by birth, and now destined for a reunion...?  
– Oh please, we are not main characters of some cheesy movie or novel. - Klemens slightly smiled at a thought and sighed weary. - Besides, I'm used to being called repugnant and disgusting. Even by the remnants of my loved one's. I chose this path myself.

Redhead laid on cold pavement, putting his bruised hands under his head.

– But still, it doesn't change the fact that you are a human being! - Andrean was now concerned. - You work days and weeks, but 90% of your income goes into paying high fucking taxes and medicine! Even though your "work" is the sole reason of you becoming sicker and sicker, weaker and weaker each day. Just look at you! What have you become after these years? - his voice was getting slightly louder and more trembling with each word.  
– A shadow of my former self, yes, I know, I'm a spoiled little brat, but I can't help it really. I accepted myself being this rotten, and feeling like shit every single day. - Klemens got up. - But I……

He stopped in a middle of a sentence. Words stuck in his throat, as he recalled his feelings. The sensations of guilt and pleasure forming a burning, ice-cold pool through his tongue to respiratory organs and in the bottom of his stomach. Sudden haze full of sharp needles all over his mind. His body began twitching by itself.

– Klemens..? Klemens!  
– I'm fine! I just spaced out.  
– You seriously need to get yourself a vacation.  
– You know that I can't. Living is too damn expensive.  
– But if you will continue selling yourself this cheap, - Andrean took his friend's hand in his own. - your health won't get any better.  
– I know! I know that better than anyone, but….. - Klemens couldn't look his colleague in the eyes. - ….. either I'm bad at math, or something doesn't quite add up. Because…. I feel dreadful because of my work. It's no surprise, but… I also feel like I'm addicted to it. Like….. I'm a smut addict. I'm in an extreme love/hate relationship with this whole situation….. And the fact is that I can't leave my job. I……… - redhead hid his face in his hands out of nervousness and quilt. - ……. This is such a bizarre dissonance, I'm sorry….

Andrean moved closer to his saddened friend and put their heads together, temple to temple. He could feel how Klemens' veins pulsated in haste. His erratic breathing on the verge of a breakdown.

– Poor, poor Klemens. What are you sorry for?  
– …….. For my…. existence? Why do you even take such a burden like me?  
– Let me remind you that I wouldn't be sitting here, with you, on freezing ground if you weren't my friend, god fucking dammit! We stick together because if it wasn't for you and me, we would probably be ending our lives by now.  
– ……. But do I really support you as much as you do me?  
– Even if you don't think so, you are a damn good guy. It's just that you focus on your cons mostly, when I have the full picture.  
– ……………….. Is what you say true…?  
– Yes. - Andrean smiled warmly. - Cross my heart and hope to die.  
– Ugh, what have I done to deserve you? - Klemens melted, hugging the other man.  
– You did nothing wrong. That's what. It's just that society is a piece of shit which brought you to your knees because "Hur du dur, sex workers are disgusting! We will bully them! But we are going to jack off and fuck them anyways, even if they are abused, because we don't give a flying FUCK!"  
– We whores stick together? - redhead extended a fist.  
– We whores stick together. Because no one else but us is going to love ourselves.

These words were sealed with a fist bump and clapping each other on the back.

– But still, I would love to have a family, you know? - Klemens remarked with a smile. - If I had a daughter, I would name her Valkyria.  
– How in the world you ended up sucking dicks if you are straight?  
– Anything, as long as it sells.  
– We are… we don't have a chance at getting meaningful relationships any time soon, don't we?  
– Yeah, that's pretty sad. But still, we could do other things. I always wanted to create a band of my own…..  
– That would be awesome. Your singing voice is beautiful.  
– Aw, shucks. You already spoiled me with your love and care.  
– Then I will be spoiling your ass rotten.  
– Okay then! - Klemens drank the remains of his cocktail and got up on his still fatigued legs. - What about going to my apartment and throwing a pajama party with frying marshmallows and playing some monopoly, if you dare being this wholesome to me?  
– Oh, you know that I can't decline that "once in a blue moon" opportunity.  
– Then it's settled. - shorter man offered his hand to help the other get up. - Let's go.

When they both were on their feet, two sex workers moved along the criminal street, holding onto each other in order to not fall from tiredness, sleepiness and alcohol affecting their brains slightly. They still fell and tripped from time to time, but it only caused laughing. Pure, unbothered laughter. And when it became too cold, they started running with their butts almost naked to the closest bus stop, afraid of no judgement at least for todays night in their cute little urban dystopia.


End file.
